Learning Japanese The Classics Way

Recently while stuck at the dealership waiting for my car to get fixed (flat tire), I got into a weird thought exercise about how to learn Japanese language. I started learning Japanese on my own way back in the late 1980’s (back when Japan Inc was super cool to impressionable teenagers) and then in college in a formal setting, and later again when I studied for the JLPT exam on my own (reached JLPT N2 in 2012).

Photo by Audrey Mari on Pexels.com

Needless to say, I’ve learned Japanese a number of ways over the years, and I’ve never quite liked any of them. Japanese as a language is pretty fun and interesting, but I have come to dislike most approaches to explain Japanese grammar because either they weren’t very clear (explaining the differences between particles は and が supposedly can fill a book, I was once told), or they they just didn’t produce good results. I still get the conjugations of 切る and 着る, both read as “kiru” but conjugate different, mixed up on a regular basis, and I don’t want to even mention the Heisig Method of learning kanji.

Thankfully, there are some really nice, modern approaches to Japanese. I really like Tae Kim’s excellent Guide to Japanese and I can say that it helped me to fix some old, bad habits, while also explaining grammar concepts in new, fresh ways. I just wish it had existed when I was learning Japanese.

Meanwhile, as a fun personal exercise under lockdown, I’ve been (re)studying Latin through the Great Courses class taught by Hans-Friedrich Mueller. Learning Latin, probably the most studied language in Western culture since antiquity, made me realize that Latin’s approach to learning is pretty effective in some ways. The way things are categorized, dissected and studied means that if you learn Latin properly, you can learn Latin surprisingly quick. It’s a fair amount of work upfront, but once you get past that first hill, it’s actually not that bad.

As with Japanese, I had learned a bit of Latin before ages ago, but while the books were well-respected (and fun), they were not always effective. I would quickly get bogged down by the time I got to the third-declension nouns, and I never quite recovered. Trying again with a fresh, different approach through the Great Courses really helped me get past the old hurdles, and now Latin makes a lot more sense. The issue was never the language (just as with Japanese), but how it’s conveyed, and how people build foundations.

So, while at the dealership, I got to thinking, can the same approach be applied to a totally different language like Japanese? Is there better ways to build solid foundations in Japanese to avoid future headaches and frustrations? I think “yes”. We can’t always rely on tradition to teach a fascinating language like Japanese, we as language students (and educators) should be tilling the soil over and over to find better and better ways. Latin has had the benefit of this for 2,000 years in the West and there’s no reason why we can’t do the same for other languages.

This post is a first-attempt at applying a Classics-style language course to Japanese. It’s far from perfect, but if you’re studying Japanese and have even a basic Classics education, hopefully this will make sense. And if you have never learned Latin or Greek, I highly recommend Professor Muller’s courses. They’re terrific.

Nouns and Particles

Nouns are particularly easy in Japanese because there’s no conjugation at all. What you see is what you get. The tricky issue comes with how they interact with particles. Particles have no direct analogy in Latin or English, but nevertheless, they can still be translated the same way.

For example in Latin there are five conjugations to express which part of the sentence a noun belongs to (major credit to Professor Muller for this explanation):

  • nominative (the subject) – mīles, a soldier
  • genitive (of the noun) – mīlitis, of the soldier
  • dative (to or for the noun, indirect object) – mīlitī, to or for the soldier
  • accusative (noun as the direct object) – mīlitem, something done to the soldier
  • ablative (by, with or from the noun) – mīlite, by with or for the soldier.

Ancient Greek has the first four, for what it’s worth. Plus both Greek and Latin have plural versions of these conjugations too.

Japanese particles fulfill the same roles, though, even if expressed differently. Instead of changing the ending of the noun as shown above, you take on an extra syllable:

  • nominative: use は (wa) or が (ga, more on this below) – 犬は・が, the dog …
  • genitive: use の (no) – 犬の, the dog’s, of the dog
  • dative: use に (ni) – 犬に, to or for the dog
  • accusative: use を (wo) – 犬を, something done to the dog.
  • ablative: で (de) or と (to) depending on context: 犬で, by the dog or with the dog (instrumental case), 犬と with the dog (accompanying).

As you can see, Japanese particles do not map 1:1 in usage and context as Latin/Greek cases, but you can see that between them all the essential grammatical bases are covered.

The whole は (wa) or が (ga) issue was hopelessly complicated to me when I was in Japanese language classes in college, but Tae Kim’s Guide to Japanese does a really good job of clarifying this. The particular が in particular is really just there to address three possible questions: who, which and where. By contrast, は just marks the topic, or is used for contrasting with other topics/subjects.

Verbs

Verbs are important in Japanese, especially since you can have a whole conversation in Japanese with verbs only (everything else is implied by context):

A: tabeta? (from context, “did you eat”?)

B: nn, tabeta. (“yup, I did.”)

Verbs in Japanese have their own inflections that don’t exist in Western languages, and remembering the conjugations can be tricky, especially because there are two types:

  1. ichidan (一段) verbs, sometimes called “ru-verbs”.
  2. godan (五段) verbs, which also include some “ru-verbs” (such as “kiru” above).

Example inflections for 切る (godan) and 着る (ichidan), both read as “kiru”, are as follows:

切る (kiru)着る (kiru)
dictionary formkirukiru
te-formkittekite
potential formkirerukirareru
causative formkiraserukisaseru
polite (masu) formkirimasukimasu

You can see how the subtle differences can throw of a student in Japanese.

So, in Latin (and Greek), verbs are usually expressed as a series of principal parts. The verb “to read” is expressed fully as legō, legere, lēgī, lēctum whereby legō is present active (“I read”), legere is the active infinitive (“to read”), lēgī is the past tense (“I read”) and lēctum is the perfect passive participle (“the X who’s reading”). By memorizing the entire set of principal parts up front, the rest of that Latin verb can be conjugated quick and easy.

To me, the same approach can be applied to Japanese verbs, just with different principal parts. By knowing both the dictionary form, and the te-form of a verb you can quickly identify if it is a ichidan verb or a godan verb and conjugate accordingly. I would probably also throw in the “masu” polite form and maybe something like passive form too for completeness.

So, for 着る, the principal parts in my mind are 着る、着て、着ます (kiru, kite, kimasu). The “ru” stem in dictionary form + the te-form with no small “tsu” tells me that this is an ichidan verb.

Similarly, for 切る: 切る、切って、切ります (kiru, kitte, kirimasu). The “ru” ending in the dictionary form, plus a small “tsu” in the te-form tells me that this is a godan verb, so I can conjugate accordingly.

For other verbs, for example 飲む (nomu): 飲む、飲んで、飲みます (nomu, nonde, nomimasu).

…and so on. The key here is that by memorizing a verb by its principal parts, you can easily intuit what type of verb it is, and know how to form the rest. The te-form is used in many ways, so memorizing it upfront, even you don’t know how to use it yet, saves a lot of headache.

In the case of Japanese this is less crucial in some ways than Latin/Greek because you can easily figure out the rest by converting the verb ending to the right ending for the right conjugation, but knowing the “root forms” that the other conjugations are based off of is a time-saver, especially when dealing with ichidan verbs and godan verbs with “ru” endings. There are quite a few.

Adjectives and Adverbs

Since Japanese doesn’t use grammatical gender like Latin and Greek verbs (no masculine, feminine, etc) they are fairly straightforward to conjugate. Unlike Latin, Greek or English, Japanese adjectives can express negative (not) and past-tense, but again the grammar is very consistent and easy to use.

In place of learning grammatical gender for adjectives (as in Latin/Greek), I think it would be sufficient to teach adjectives simply as their dictionary form + dictionary-negative form. For example:

  • 安い: “cheap” which has forms 安い、安くない
  • 静かな: “quiet” which has 静かな、静かじゃない

For the “na” adjectives, such as “quiet”, I don’t know if it’s proper to include the な at the end of the adjective or not, but since it’s not used in some forms, it seemed proper to leave it out but then again, as with the verbs and principal parts, knowing up front that it has a な will tell you how to apply it to modifying nouns and such based on established grammar rules. The key here is treating these as teaching aids, I think.

Adverbs of course are super easy, barely an inconvenience. You just attach them right before the verb. Voila.

Conclusion

This whole mental exercise in expressing Japanese with Classics-style teaching aids needs a lot of work, and folks who are much better at Japanese than me will understandably disagree. What I wanted to do is to stimulate thinking about how to teach Japanese more effectively, more concisely so people can establish good foundations. Japanese is different than English, a lot different, but when you come to grips with its own internal logic and structure, it’s really not that hard. The trouble is how its conveyed in language education, and I hope people will continue finding newer, better ways to overcome that hurdle.

頑張りましょう!

P.S. yes, kanji is a pain, but you shouldn’t be brute-force memorizing them anyway.

Stop Memorizing Kanji and Learn Through Convergence

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From time to time, I meet other folks who, like me, are interested in Japanese culture and language.  I have been studying it more or less since I married my wife, but more seriously about 10 years ago when I was focused on passing the JLPT exams, and through it all I’ve made a lot of rookie mistakes in how I learned the language.

When I chat with other Japanophiles, I often see the same patterns in how people learn the language and some of these patterns aren’t helpful.

One of these patterns I often see is when people try to brute-force memorize Japanese “kanji” or Chinese characters.  Japanese uses them¹ a lot and they seem pretty daunting when you first encounter them, so people often fall into the pattern thinking that if they memorize X kanji, they can read Japanese.  They build large flashcard libraries and cycle through them every so often.

Unfortunately (and again speaking for experience and many wasted hours), this doesn’t work because:

  • The sheer number of kanji is too great to retain in one’s mind for long.  Seriously, as soon as  you stop memorizing a kanji character, you’ll start to forget within a week.  SRS (space-repetition study) helps a bit, but once you’re memorizing more than a couple hundred kanji things get out of hand.  And remember, there are thousands of kanji to memorize, not just the 2100+ on the Joyo Kanji list.
  • Past a certain point, the on-yomi (Sinified, non-native reading) for kanji really start to run together.  For example, how many kanji out there have a on-yomi of chō ?  A lot.
  • Knowing a kanji in isolation isn’t nearly as useful as one might assume.  People frequently make the mistake of assuming Chinese characters are self-contained “symbols”,² but they frequently work in concert with other Chinese characters to form proper words.  This is true in Chinese language as much as it is in Japanese despite being totally different languages otherwise.
  • Finally, this really isn’t how Japanese people themselves learn Kanji.  I know because I’ve seen my kids grow up and learn Japanese.  They do rote memorizing, initially, but the real learning comes from all the reading and writing of Japanese that they do.  Rote memorizing is really only useful for learning the proper stroke-order, in my humble opinion.

So, just put down the flashcards and let’s look at another way of learning kanji.  I like to call this the “Convergence Method”.

In so many words, the Convergence Method works like so:

  1. Learn some Japanese words.  Learn how to pronounce them, read them and write them.
  2. Learn some more Japanese words.  Repeat #1.
  3. Eventually, the kanji in those words will start to overlap with one another.
  4. Kanji learned.

Case in point.  Here’s some random Japanese words:

  • 発見hakken (discovery)
  • 見物kenbutsu (sightseeing)
  • 意見iken (viewpoint, opinion)
  • 見事migoto (something splendied)
  • 見る – miru (to see, to watch)

Based on these 5 words, what’s the common denominator?  The kanji 見 which can mean things like “to see, “to observe”, “to watch” and so on.  It can be read sometimes as ken and sometimes as mi or miru.

Now, if you see a 6th word, 見当, and without any other clues, you can reasonably guess how to read the first character and guess it’s general meaning.  That’s how convergence works.

Similarly for , it appears in such words as:

  • 弁当bentō (boxed lunches)
  • 本当hontō (truth, fact)
  • 当時tōji (at that time)
  • 当てるateru (to guess, to hit a target, etc)

So, 見当 is probably going to be read as kentō and probably alludes to “see, observe” and “truth, fact”.  And you’d be pretty close to the mark.

Thus, the key to reading and writing Japanese isn’t memorizing kanji, it’s learning vocabulary, and enough of it to get critical mass to see words overlap.

Good luck!

¹ Interestingly, you also see some usage of Chinese characters in other Chinese-influenced cultures as Korea and Vietnam, but to a far lesser degree, and often in nostalgic or marketing contexts.

² This is another reminder why Chinese character tattoos are generally a bad idea.  Having 光 (light) as a tattoo makes about as much sense as tattooing the Greek φος (phos-) on my arm.  Phos- what? Phosphate? Phosphorescence? I won’t even touch on the times I’ve seen people tattoo the wrong Chinese character on their arm even though it has the same on-yomi as the one they were thinking of.  Compare 禅 (“zen” as in Zen Buddhism) with 善 (“zen” as in a set of dishes, etc).